


Handcuffed for the Holidays

by literaryoblivion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Artist Derek, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ice Skating, Kidnapping, M/M, Mistletoe, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5527577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is not like this. This is not him. But… he was desperate, and he had just missed an opportunity of a lifetime and had his (who he’s now referring to) douche boyfriend of a little less than a year break up with him right before he was supposed to meet his family, and this kind of attractive guy was there and convenient and…</p><p>So he kind of accidentally knocked him unconscious and maybe sort of kidnapped him by putting him in his car and driving them both to the rental cabin in the woods his family had gotten for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handcuffed for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based on the ABC Family movie Holiday in Handcuffs. This is also for [12 Days of Sterek](http://12daysofsterek.tumblr.com), and the art was done by the awesome [Dani](http://inkforwords.tumblr.com/)!

Derek is not normally like this, okay? He’s not. So he doesn’t exactly have his entire life put together, but what twenty-six year old does these days?

But there’s just something about his family… and being stuck with them with nowhere to go for an extended period of time and having to face his mother’s judgmental looks and Laura’s condescending “if only you were more like me” attitude and Cora’s ability to ignore all of it and still be adored that made him snap. 

He is not like this. This is not him. But… he was desperate, and he had just missed an opportunity of a lifetime and had his (who he’s now referring to) douche boyfriend of a little less than a year break up with him right before he was supposed to meet his family, and this kind of attractive guy was there and convenient and…

So he kind of _accidentally_ knocked him unconscious and maybe sort of kidnapped him by putting him in his car and driving them both to the rental cabin in the woods his family had gotten for Christmas.

Yeah, okay, so he fucked up. He gets it. But… he can’t turn around. He’s already most of the way to the cabin that his family is expecting him at, and he just can’t face their judgement and also be late and show up with no boyfriend.

“My dad’s a sheriff you know. As soon as my girlfriend realizes I’ve been kidnapped, your ass is totally going to get arrested and thrown in jail. I hope you like the color orange,” the man he kidnapped--Stiles--says.

“Where’s he a sheriff?” There’s a pause and a slight mumble Derek can’t quite hear. “What’s that?”

“Beacon Hills.”

“And where is that?”

“California.”

“Which is on the other side of the country. It’ll probably take a while for him to get over here to _Vermont_ or even have jurisdiction here, but nice try.”

“Whatever, dude. I don’t know what you’re on but taking someone against their will is a crime and somehow you are going to pay. I’ll make sure of that. As soon as we get to your house, I’m telling your family you’re crazy and kidnapped me and I’m getting a phone and calling the cops and getting out of here and away from you.”

Derek just nods because he’ll find some way to make sure his family doesn’t believe Stiles, and he already knows there’s no way for Stiles to call anyone as his mother ensured there was no service at the cabin she rented, something about quality family time without distractions or something. He’s surprised his mom was willing to have a place with electricity to be honest; his mother gets a little crazy about Christmas time.

“I just need you to pretend to be my boyfriend Jordan.” 

“Uh, no thank you. Not happening, buddy,” Stiles says twisting his hands in the fuzzy handcuffs Derek’s friend Erica had bought him as a joke.

“He couldn’t make it, and my parents are expecting me to bring him, and with everything that’s happened, I just need them to think I have one thing going for me in my life.”

Stiles turns his head and narrows his eyes at Derek, who tries his best to ignore the analyzing stare. “He broke up with you, didn’t he?”

“What? No! He couldn’t make it. Like I said,” Derek replies, a little too quickly.

“Ha ha, yeah, no. I don’t believe that for one second. He broke up with you. Probably because he realized you were crazy.”

“Whatever. Okay fine. He broke up with me. But, it wasn’t working out between us anyway. I was just hoping bringing him to meet my family would take the heat off of my mess of a life anyway.” 

Stiles humphs. After a few moments of silence, he says, “It can’t be that bad.”

Derek huffs. “Trust me it is. My family already thinks I have a worthless degree, and it doesn’t help that I haven’t found a real job and instead work at a diner to make ends meet, not to mention I blew an interview today that my mother set up. Showing up to this without a boyfriend after I said I’d be bringing one would just be the icing on the cake to prove to my family that I’m a helpless, pathetic mess.”

Suddenly realizing they were getting close to the cabin, having spotted it a little ways off, Derek slows down as they approach.

“Okay, fine,” Stiles says.

“Huh?”

“Fine. I’ll help you. I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend. I can’t guarantee that my girlfriend hasn’t already called the cops and they are on their way down here to throw you in jail, but I’ll help you out. I’m going to boyfriend the shit out of you, so much that your family is going to love me.” 

“Okay?” 

“That way when they realize the truth, it’s going to be that much more satisfying for me.”

Derek’s face falls flat, and he parks the car and yanks the keys out of the ignition. He leans over and unlocks the handcuffs from Stiles’s wrists. “Let’s go, _Jordan._ ” 

“Oh yeah, and no,” he says as he rubs his wrists. “We’re stopping that now. You’re calling me Stiles and that’s it.”

“But my family knows my boyfriend’s name is Jordan.”

“Not my problem. Say it’s a nickname or something, but I’m _not_ being called Jordan all weekend.”

Derek rolls his eyes and gets out of the car as he pops the trunk to gather his things. He realizes that Stiles has nothing, for obvious reasons, and he doesn’t even have a coat because he had left it at the diner. He thinks his dad might have packed a few extra clothes, and even though Stiles won’t fit, he could always borrow some of Derek’s. Might lend more to the lie they are weaving anyway.

Stiles is marching to the door, arms folded across his chest, probably to look angry but more likely because he’s freezing and trying to retain his body heat. Derek hopes Stiles will keep his agreement even though his reasoning behind it is rather mean. At this point, Derek doesn’t even care. If Derek’s family likes Stiles more than him, it wouldn’t surprise him.

Derek’s not sure his family has ever really liked him.

*********************

He’s not sure why he says it, why he agrees to help his kidnapper and pretend to be his boyfriend.

Maybe it’s because he’s stuck there and has nothing better to do? Maybe it’s because even though he’s angry about the situation, Derek is rather attractive and it wouldn’t be a hardship to pretend to be into him? Maybe because after hearing Derek talk about his family and how he thinks they see him, he kind of felt sorry for him, perhaps even empathized a little?

Stiles has felt his own fears and worries that he’s disappointed his dad, and especially his late mother. He tries not to think about it, tries to do the best he can in a field he never really wanted to go into but felt he should. It pays good money; he’s been successful, and he has nice things. But he wouldn’t say he’s happy; and that’s probably the biggest reason he thinks his mom would be disappointed in him.

So he gets it. At least his judgement is more of the self-inflicted kind as opposed to Derek’s. If Derek’s right, it sounds like his family is a bit of a nightmare, and no one should have to deal with that on Christmas.

He was lying about the girlfriend, though. He doesn’t have one; although he _was_ supposed to be meeting his friend Lydia at the diner, who is one of the scariest people he knows. He figures she wouldn’t mind if he called her his girlfriend in this instance. It’s an emergency. And not only is she scary, but she’s also a genius. He hopes that she is smart enough to see his jacket at the diner and realize something is up and not think he was standing her up. She probably would. Although, he’d have no way to tell her where he’s headed, so maybe nothing would come of it anyway. If anything, she’d just be pissed and maybe a little worried.

Derek seems like a nice enough guy, who had reached the end of his rope. If he’s being honest, he’s gotten over his initial anger towards Derek. There’s still some there, don’t get him wrong, but now he thinks he can trust that Derek won’t kill him and bury him in the woods. He’s not sure if Derek’s family is as bad as he says they are, but he will soon find out. 

Before Stiles gets to the door of the cabin, it swings open and a tall thin woman with long dark hair steps forward. She has similar features to Derek, and she looks older, so she must be his mother; although he did mention an older sister… He should have made Derek tell him more about his family after he agreed to help him. But he’ll have to make do. He’s good at improvising.

“You must be Derek’s older sister,” he says with a flourish of his hand and a graceful bow before taking the woman’s hand and kissing it. He knows that whether he’s right or wrong in his assumption, it’ll be fine. Either he’s right and it is Derek’s sister, or he’s wrong and his mother will be so flattered he’ll score bonus points.

The woman blushes a little and lets out a fond huff. “Oh you flatterer! I’m Talia, Derek’s mother. It’s so nice to finally meet you, Jordan. ”

“Please, call me Stiles,” he replies, figuring he might as well nip this in the bud. “I much prefer that nickname instead of Jordan,” he adds when the woman looks slightly confused.

She shrugs, not seeming to care either way. “Alright, Stiles. Please, come inside. You must be freezing! Where’s your coat, dear?”

“We were in such a rush, I completely forgot it and my bag. It’s sitting by the front door! By the time we realized it, we were already half-way here, and Derek insisted we be on time.”

“Oh, honey, we would have understood! Derek, you should have gone back for Stiles’s things!” She says it in a reprimanding tone to Derek who has finally caught up with them and is brushing off the snow from his coat, his own bag by his feet. He gives his mother a chastised look, and then glares at Stiles, who just gives him a smirk and a wink.

“Oh, it’s alright, Mrs. Hale. I can just borrow some of Derek’s things, right, Der-bear?” Stiles says, voice sickeningly sweet, as he hooks an arm around Derek’s. Derek looks like he’s about to strangle him, or say something biting, but he’s holding his tongue. Stiles would laugh, but Derek’s mother is looking at them as if they are the cutest couple in the whole world.

“Der-bear?!” another female voice shouts by the door. Another woman, similar features to Talia, but significantly younger squeezes out of the door and on to the porch. “You hate when I call you that!” the woman says before tackling Derek in a hug, effectively knocking Stiles to the side to avoid being tackled as well.

“I hate when anyone calls me that,” Derek mutters under his breath, and Stiles grins. He thinks to add something like “No you don’t” or “You love it” just to be contrary, but Derek seems genuinely happy to be hugging his sister, and he doesn’t want to make this weekend any more torturous than it’s already going to be.

When his sister finally detaches herself from Derek, she turns to Stiles and holds out his hand. “I’m Laura, Derek’s older sister.”

“Stiles,” he answers, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Everyone come inside, you’re letting the heat out,” Talia says, ushering everyone off the porch and into the cabin. Once inside she pushes Derek towards the stairs. “Take your things to your room. It’s the first one on the right. We’ll take Stiles to meet everyone else.”

Talia says it dismissively, and Stiles can tell that it looks like Derek wants to protest but seems to resign himself to his fate and takes one last glance at Stiles before trudging up the stairs. Stiles gives him a little smirk, but part of him feels a pang of guilt and sympathy for Derek. Maybe Derek hadn’t exaggerated his family’s exasperation of him. 

~

As the evening progresses and he notices more and more how much Derek’s family hounds him, he’s starting to feel even more and more for Derek. He doesn’t know him well, and he has his own issues with Derek, obviously, but he seems like a great guy, undeserving of his family’s harsh treatment of him. He plays his part though, cuddling into Derek on the couch, sitting close to him at dinner, pecking him on the cheek here and there. 

From what he can tell, Derek’s older sister Laura is the adored one--she seems to have everything going for her, great job, amazing boyfriend who conveniently couldn’t take off work to come--and his younger sister Cora is aloof but still gets praise and attention, as much as Laura. Derek, though, it seems gets the advice, the disappointment, the looks of disapproval from not only his parents but his sisters as well, as if they are somehow wiser and better than Derek. It not only makes Stiles feel sorry for him, but angry on his behalf. 

After the fifth time of Derek being the butt of a joke at dinner and Derek looking like he’s trying to laugh and put on a brave face, but Stiles can tell he’s barely holding it together, Stiles interrupts. “I don’t mean to cut this short and skip out on helping clean up, but do you mind if I excuse Derek and I for a little bit? I need to talk to him in private.”

Derek’s father, which Stiles can’t quite remember his name nods, and Talia waves them away saying they can take care of the dishes. With permission, Stiles stands and drags Derek up and away to their shared bedroom upstairs.

“What is it, Stiles?” Derek asks confused and a little frustrated.

“Are you okay?” 

Brow furrowed, Derek answers, “Yes? Why?” 

“Because you didn’t look okay.” 

Derek rolls his eyes. “Oh and you can tell because you know me so well?” 

“I’ve been around you long enough to know when you’re uncomfortable, and you were practically screaming get me out of here. I was helping you out, dude.”

“I don’t know why you care. They’re fawning all over you. They love you.” Derek lets out a breath. “More than me.”

“That’s not true. They’re your family. They love you.” Stiles says it to be reassuring, but he can tell why Derek might not believe it.

“You saw them. You heard them. I’m a disappointment to them.” 

Stiles sighs. “I think parents want what’s best for their kids, but sometimes they don’t know what that is but they think they do. They’ll come around.”

Derek nods and the tension in his shoulders eases a little. Stiles finds himself rubbing Derek’s arm comfortingly, which should be awkward and he should probably stop doing it, but Derek doesn’t comment on it. 

“Thanks,” Derek finally says and gives Stiles a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome. Want to go back down?”

With a bob of his head, Derek opens the door and waits for Stiles to join him. Stiles takes Derek’s hand as they descend the stairs and tells himself it’s part of the act even though deep down he likes the feeling of Derek’s palm against his and being able to help Derek get through the weekend.

********************

He wasn’t expecting it, but Derek’s starting to care for Stiles, mainly because Stiles is being incredibly nice to him for someone who kidnapped him and forced him to be his fake boyfriend. He knows Stiles has a girlfriend, but other than threatening him with her wrath on the way to the cabin, Stiles hasn’t mentioned her since. He wouldn’t go so far as to think that Stiles is enjoying himself, but the fact that he seems to read Derek well enough to try to comfort him and get him away from awkward situations means something, doesn’t it? 

Not to mention that Stiles seems open to holding his hand and rubbing his arm when no one in his family is even nearby or can see them. It feels nice, and it makes Derek wish that it was real, that Stiles was actually his boyfriend. But maybe that’s another part of Stiles’s plan? To make Derek like him too so that when the truth comes out, Derek will be that much more devastated. He doesn’t think Stiles would be that cruel, hopes he’s not, but he can’t be sure. 

As they are descending the stairs hand in hand, he’s too distracted by his hope to notice his sisters snickering as they get to the bottom of the stairs together. 

“Mistletoe!” his sister Cora says, pointing up at the small bundle of greenery above Derek’s and Stiles’s heads.

“Uh…” Derek says looking up. He’s pretty sure that was not hanging there when they went upstairs earlier, which means his sisters must have hung it up while they were in the room.

“You have to kiss. It’s the rules,” Laura says with a smug look.

Derek turns to Stiles and hopes his eyes convey his silent apology and plea to go along with it. Derek sees Stiles give a minute shrug before pulling Derek in with a hand on the back of his neck for a kiss.

The kiss itself is short and chaste, but when their lips press together, Derek feels something else, a connection, something electric. He can’t quite name it, and he’s not sure if it’s him or if Stiles feels it, too. But, when they pull back, Stiles looks a little stunned, wide-eyed, staring at Derek, like he wasn’t quite ready to stop kissing. A faint blush grows on Stiles’s cheeks as he clears his throat, turning away from Derek and towards his sisters. Laura and Cora clap and cheer and pull them towards the living room.

“Come on,” Laura says, taking Derek by the arm while Cora does the same to Stiles. “We have to write our Santa letters.”

Derek groans and rolls his eyes. “We are all adults. Why do we have to do this?”

“‘Cause mom insisted. It’s tradition. You know how she is,” Cora says. “You two get the living room.” She gestured to the pads of paper and pens on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“And I even left you a present,” Laura adds nodding towards the wine bottle and glasses tucked behind the clock on the mantlepiece. “Don’t have too much fun,” she adds with a suggestive wink.

Cora shakes her head at Laura and drags her back the way they came and out of sight, presumably to work on their own letters.

“So, what do we do?” Stiles asks once they are gone and he and Derek are settled on the couch, wine uncorked and glasses full.

“Write Santa a letter saying what you want for Christmas. My mom makes us do it every year,” Derek answers with a sigh. It’s dumb now that they are older and know the truth about Santa. But, his mom insists every year, saying she likes to see if she got the gifts right, to use it as more of a personal measure of their wants and needs, etc.

He knows Cora gets specific, asking for outlandish things she knows she won’t get, and Laura asks for lofty, selfless things like world peace and to end poverty. For himself, he never knows what to put and ends up putting things like socks and underwear and every once in a while that he’ll live up to his parents’ expectations of him.

Curious, he leans over to look at Stiles’s letter, but before he can get a good glimpse, Stiles yanks it to his chest.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Stiles accuses, eyes narrowed at Derek.

“Come on, let me see,” Derek says, trying to pull the pad from Stiles. Stiles holds it above and behind his head out of Derek’s reach. Derek feigns giving up and then lunges for it, surprising Stiles who lets out a mixture of a laugh and a yelp. He tries his best to hide the paper behind him while also trying to reach for Derek’s on the coffee table all while Derek is hovering over him and making grabby hands.

When Derek realizes what he’s trying to do, he jumps for his own pad of paper and just barely misses knocking over their wine glasses, mainly because Stiles tackles him back to the couch before he can get to the table.

Within moments, Stiles is straddling him on the couch, his hands holding Derek’s wrists above his head against the arm of the couch. Stiles is surprisingly stronger than he looks, but Derek finds himself not wanting to fight Stiles off at the moment. Stiles looks down at him, grinning, cheeks flushed, a little breathless, and Derek has the urge to lean up and kiss him. He sees Stiles’s eyes dart down to his own lips and can feel Stiles shift, leaning closer to Derek, his hands loosening around Derek’s wrists. 

He thinks Stiles might actually kiss him, and he braces himself for it, watching Stiles’s face get closer to his.

Suddenly, Stiles is twisting and yanking the pad of paper off the table and holding it above his head while crowing in victory. Derek quickly hides his look of disappointment and with a smirk holds up Stiles’s paper, slightly crumpled.

“You--how did you--” Stiles starts when he sees Derek’s prize. He groans and climbs off of Derek and sits down on the couch. “I guess it’s only fair,” Stiles says waving to Derek to go ahead and read his list while he reads Derek’s.

On Stiles’s list there’s some material things, a pasta maker, new tires, a trip to Rome, but the last thing on the list surprises Derek.

“To make your mom proud?” Derek reads out loud. Stiles ducks his head, sheepish, and he gives Derek a sad smile.

“You’re not the only one that worries about disappointing their parents.”

Derek risks scooting closer to Stiles on the couch and pats his leg in a similarly comforting gesture that Stiles had done earlier. “I’m sure your mom is proud of you. You’re successful, have a job, a roof over your head. Maybe she doesn’t say it often, but--”

“She can’t say it.”

“What?”

“She... died when I was ten.”

Derek lets out a breath, unsure how to respond, knowing that “I’m sorry” is an empty sentiment. Instead he puts an arm around Stiles’s shoulders, and Stiles leans into him, accepting the embrace. 

“I like to think she’s proud,” Stiles continues, “but part of me thinks she’d wish I’d do something that makes me happy, not makes me money, and being an accountant is not a joyful occupation for me.”

“What would make you happy?” Derek asks, absently rubbing small circles with his thumb along Stiles’s arm.

“I actually wanted to go into police work, like my dad. But I know he wouldn’t approve, would think it’s too dangerous. So, I never went into it.”

“Did you ever ask him?” He feels Stiles shake his head against his arm and chest. “Maybe you should. You might be surprised at his answer.” 

Stiles doesn’t respond, but he does cuddle into Derek a little more, which Derek doesn’t mind at all. After a few moments, Stiles speaks up.

“There was one Christmas, when I was younger, that my mom insisted we wear ugly Christmas sweaters for our family picture to send out with Christmas cards. My dad absolutely hated it, but he went along with it. We went to the store and my mom made him try on every single one she found, and my dad came out and showed her what each one looked like every time. 

“We must have been there for a few hours, but it was so funny. My dad’s face every time he came out of the dressing room was priceless, and when my mom finally declared one the winner, he seemed so relieved. And he was so tired of pulling sweaters on and off, that he didn’t even bother taking it off, just tore off the tag and paid for it while he wore it. He even wore it to get ice cream after we left the store. It was awesome. I think that’s one of my favorite Christmas memories,” Stiles says, laughing a little to himself at the memory.

He looks up at Derek, the silent question of “What’s yours?” evident in his face.

“I was about ten,” Derek starts, “and I was really into ice skating. My mom had put me in some lessons, and I was supposed to do this big routine on Christmas Eve. But there was a storm, and so they had to cancel it. I was so disappointed because I had practiced so much and was so excited to do it. So my parents made a little rink in the backyard, iced down the porch and everything, and set up all these twinkle lights in the trees, so I could still perform for them.

“It was so quiet and peaceful, and the lights were so pretty. It’s one of my favorite Christmas memories.”

He can see Stiles smile out of the corner of his eye, and he finds himself grateful again for having Stiles there with him, for being able to share these things about himself with Stiles.

*****************

“I’m sorry,” Derek says after a few quiet moments. Stiles hums in question. “I’m sorry for kidnapping you. It was a huge mistake, and I feel so stupid. I’m sorry. But thank you for being so nice and going along with things and helping me. I promise that after this is over tomorrow, I’ll take you wherever you have to go.”

Stiles nods but doesn’t reply. To be honest, he hadn’t really minded being with Derek or pretending to be his boyfriend. He’s comfortable, in fact, slightly overwhelmed with how comfortable he feels cuddled up with Derek, being so willing to share one of his favorite memories of his mom with Derek. He surprised himself by being so open, sharing something so personal with Derek and telling him about his mother and his personal life.

He thinks he knows why, because he had started feeling comfortable with Derek earlier and has started having feelings in general for him. And he’s already forgiven Derek for his mistake. He doesn’t quite know how to tell Derek that though, so he stays quiet.

Slowly, he sits up from where he was leaning up against Derek and stretches and yawns. “It’s getting late, we should get to bed before Santa comes,” Stiles says with a wink. 

Derek rolls his eyes but stands from the couch, lending a hand to Stiles to help him up. He figures Derek will let go of his hand as soon as he’s standing, but he doesn’t, not until he realizes he should put the wine and glasses back in the kitchen.

It’s quiet in the house, and Stiles hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. The rest of Derek’s family must have left them alone and gone to bed already. He waits for Derek to return from the kitchen at the edge of the living room, and when they walk towards the stairs, he brushes his fingers along Derek’s until Derek finally grabs his hand and laces their fingers together.

There’s only a small light at the top of the stairs to guide them, but Stiles can still see a faint blush on Derek’s cheeks as they climb up the creaky wood steps. Neither of them say anything, and Derek seems determined to stare straight ahead. Stiles finds himself admiring Derek, wanting to kiss the pink on his cheeks. Instead he gives Derek’s hand a small squeeze, before he lets go to walk into their shared bedroom.

Their room has two twin beds, and earlier Stiles had been relieved at the discovery. Now, though, he kind of wishes he did have to share a bed with Derek, if only to claim innocence when he woke up curled around him. Derek’s suitcase is sitting on the bed he’s claimed as his own, and it’s then that Stiles remembers he’ll either have to borrow something or sleep in his underwear, which he could do, but given the circumstances and the weather, he probably shouldn’t.

“Uh, is it okay if I borrow something to sleep in?” Stiles asks, scratching the back of his head and nodding towards the suitcase that Derek is already pulling his own clothes from. 

“Oh, yeah, uh, sure,” he replies. “Help yourself.” He takes out his own pajamas and shuffles over to the ensuite bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

Stiles gingerly goes through Derek’s clothes enough to grab the first T-shirt and shorts he sees. The shirt will probably be a little baggy, but the shorts have a drawstring so that’ll help. When he takes them out, a book that was sandwiched in between falls out and to the floor. He means to just pick it up and put it right back, but it had fallen open to reveal a few sketches. 

He only flips through a few, but they are amazing and beautiful. They are rough, just pencil sketches, some aren’t finished, but they are expressive. Tempted, he flips towards the beginning, where there are completed pictures, some colored by markers some by water colors, and those are even more striking than the later pencil sketches. He remembers Derek mentioning a “useless” degree; perhaps art is the degree he meant.

Stiles tucks the book back into Derek’s suitcase, not wanting to be seen with it when Derek emerges from the bathroom. He quickly changes into the clothes he borrowed and thinks about Derek’s art and if there’s some way he could help him or at least prove to him that his degree isn’t useless.

The door to the bathroom creaks open, and Derek says, “There’s an extra toothbrush in there for you.”

“Sweet. Thank you, and for the clothes, too,” Stiles replies, stepping around Derek to use the bathroom. Derek only nods a reply before turning away so Stiles can get ready for bed.

By the time Stiles leaves the bathroom, Derek is already tucked into his bed. “Good night,” Stiles says on his way to the other bed.

“Good night,” Derek replies. He waits until Stiles is under the covers and then flips off the bedside lamp between them, plunging the room into darkness.

For how exhausting the day has been, Stiles can’t sleep. He listens to the quiet tremor of Derek’s breath even out, the creaks of the cabin shifting, the whistle of the wind outside, while he thinks. The next day is Christmas day, and he saw a few presents under the tree with his name on it, and he feels bad that he doesn’t have anything. He’s sure the family won’t mind, that he can use the suitcase excuse he gave earlier, but he wants to do something nice at least for Derek.

As he lays there in the dark trying to think of what he could do, he gets an idea. He’s not sure if it’ll go over well, but he hopes that after the conversation he had with Derek tonight, that it will. He falls asleep making a list in his head of what all he has to do to pull it off.

~

In the morning they eat breakfast, and while it’s not as awkward as the dinner had been the night before, it’s still more of the same teasing remarks to Derek. Derek doesn’t seemed fazed, but it could be because he’s only partially awake since Laura insisted on everyone being up by 8am.

After helping clean up, they move on to the living room to open presents. Derek actually volunteers the information that because Stiles didn’t know them well, the presents Derek got for all of them are joint gifts from him and Stiles. It’s a lie Stiles is grateful for and he gives Derek a small smile in thanks. They are seated next to each other on the fireplace, and Stiles lets himself scoot closer and rest his hand on Derek’s leg.

Cora passes out the presents, and once they are distributed, they take turns opening them. There are a few for Stiles, mostly generic ones that could be given to anyone, like a mug, some socks, a tie. He’s not upset; Derek clearly hadn’t told his family much about his boyfriend, and he thinks it’s nice they even thought to get him anything. He even has something from Derek, which surprises him, but before he gets a chance to open it, he notices that most of the gifts Derek has don’t seem very fitting. 

He has a set of historical fiction books, a gift certificate to a golfing range (which even he could tell Derek wasn’t much of a golfer), and a set of ties. He hadn’t been paying enough attention, but now he can tell that with each gift, Derek is pasting on a fake smile and saying hollow sentiments of thanks.

It’s Derek’s turn to open a present. It’s from his parents, and when he opens it, it’s a nice leather briefcase. While it looks expensive, it doesn’t fit Derek at all, and this time, Stiles can see the disappointment clear on Derek’s face.

“We just thought it might be nice to have when you get a real job,” Talia says, his dad nodding in agreement next to her.

Derek smiles, but Stiles can tell it’s a sad smile. “No, yeah. This’ll be good. Thank you,” Derek says, looking down at the briefcase in his hands.

Laura opens her next gift, and the rest of the family goes back to opening presents, not noticing how sad Derek is and pretending not to be. Stiles, though, can see how upset and uncomfortable Derek is, how all the presents he’s gotten from his family are presents for the Derek they hope he’d be not for the Derek that he is. It makes Stiles sad and angry. Stiles squeezes Derek’s leg to let him know he’s there, but Derek doesn’t look at him. Instead, he mumbles something about having to use the restroom, and he leaves without anyone but Stiles noticing he’s gone.

Stiles feels like he should follow Derek, but surely his family would notice them both gone, and what if Derek really did have to use the restroom? So he stays put, watching with increasing anger at the rest of Derek’s family and their ignorance of Derek’s feelings. When it’s his turn to open his last gift--Derek’s--he tunes out the family’s chatter while he opens it.

He peels back the paper to reveal a hand-drawn sketch of himself. He’s not sure when Derek did it, but it’s beautiful. It makes him regret that Derek was too upset to be here with him when he opened it because he wants to throw his arms around his neck and kiss him for giving it to him. Seeing it, though, only cements his feelings about Derek and his frustration with Derek’s family, so much so that he decides to confront him.

“Have any of you noticed that Derek’s been gone for a while?” he snaps. The chatter stops and all of the Hales look at Stiles confused. “Do you even know what Derek likes anymore?” he asks gesturing to the pile of Derek’s gifts next to him on the fireplace.

Laura scoffs. “He’s our family, of course we do!” 

“Really? Look, I know I haven’t known him as long as you, but even I could tell the gifts you gave him weren’t anything he liked.”

The family stays quiet, unsure how to respond to Stiles.

“And all your comments this weekend, about him getting a real job, how he needs to step up, and then hammering it all in by getting him gifts for a version of Derek you want...” Stiles shakes his head. “He’s told me so much about how he doesn’t think you care about him, that you are disappointed in him and don’t love him, and I tried to tell him that wasn’t true. That surely that can’t be, but now that I’ve seen it with my own eyes, I’m starting to understand why he feels that way.”

“He’s my son; of course I love him and care about him,” Talia says defensively. Her husband and daughters all nod in agreement.

“Well, you don’t do a very good job of showing it. I know you think Derek’s art is a waste, but have you seen it? It’s gorgeous, and he could be successful in it if given the right opportunity.” With a sigh, Stiles rubs his hands through his hair. “Look, I know you love Derek, but maybe be a little more accepting and supportive of his life choices so he knows that?”

Talia sits up. “Alright.” She looks at her family and then back to Stiles. “We will try. Is there anything else?”

“Actually,” Stiles starts, a smile forming on his lips, “I’m going to need your help with Derek’s present…”

************** 

Derek realizes how childish it must seem for him to leave and pout in the bathroom, but he just couldn’t take being in the living room for much longer. Even with Stiles beside him and trying to subtly comfort him, it wasn’t enough. He knows he’s been in the bedroom for much longer than he should, but he’s hoping that he’ll be gone long enough that his family will be finished opening gifts before he comes back down.

Lucky for him, he gets his wish. When he descends the stairs, no one is in the living room, and it seems most of them are in the kitchen preparing lunch. His mom is at the counter mixing up a salad, and his dad is cooking something on the stove. He doesn’t see anyone else, and he wonders where Stiles could be.

“Hi, honey,” his mom says when she sees him come in. 

“Hey, mom. Do you know where Stiles is?” Derek asks, opening a cupboard to pull out dishes and glasses to set the table.

“I sent him with the girls to go into town to pick up a few things I forgot.” He makes a face because the last thing he wants is for Stiles to be trapped with both of his sisters. His mom laughs. “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”

Derek quirks the corner of his mouth because he doesn’t quite believe that, but he doesn’t say anything. He moves to take the plates to the table, but his mom stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Honey, you know your father and I love you very much,” Talia says. Derek is a little taken aback by the comment, but he nods, noticing that his dad has stopped cooking and has turned around to face him.

“Yeah, I know,” he replies.

“I don’t think we’ve done a very good job to show you that, and we’re sorry. We want what’s best for you, but we also want you to be happy. And if your art makes you happy, you should pursue it,” Talia continues.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure I can make money with it.”

“I think you should try. If it doesn’t work out, that’s alright, but you shouldn’t not do it just because you think you won’t be successful or you think that your father and I won’t approve.” Talia gives him a warm smile, a similar one mirrored on his dad’s face. 

“Screw what we think, right?” his dad says with a chuckle and a wink before he goes back to his cooking.

“We love you, Derek, and we’ll do better about listening to what you want and supporting your choices.” Talia pulls Derek into a hug and kisses him on the temple. 

Derek doesn’t quite know what to say so he doesn’t, hugs his mom back, and smiles. It seems a little random, but he’s grateful to hear her say it. It settles something in his chest and makes him feel better than he had the whole time he’s been with them. 

During their moment, Laura, Cora, and Stiles all stomp in, discarding their coats and hats in the back entryway. He separates from his mom and goes back to helping set the table while he listens to Laura tell some story about the guy at the convenient store they went to.

Lunch is pleasant and nice, and Stiles shares a few private smiles with him as they eat, and he finds it’s easy to return them. When lunch is through and everything is cleaned up, they’re left to entertain themselves until dinner. He plans to ask Stiles if he wants to play cards or something with him, but Cora drags him into a game of chess instead.

As they play, Cora expresses similar sentiments that his mom had earlier, they she loves him and that if he needs help with anything to tell her because she cares about him. He thanks her and gives her a hug, and then proceeds to beat her at chess, which causes a pillow fight that luckily ends in laughter and not tears. 

Later on, after a nap, Laura ends up finding him and asking him for a drawing. He’s surprised, but happy to do it, and he spends the rest of the afternoon sketching Laura as she sits curled up on the couch reading. When he’s through, Laura gives him a big hug and thanks him, genuinely excited for his sketch of her. He feels proud and happy afterwards and thinks maybe he had been too hard on his family. Whatever happened that made them change their tune, he’s glad; it’s making the holiday a little better than he thought it would be.

It’s not until it’s growing dark out, almost time for dinner, that he realizes he hasn’t seen Stiles since lunch. He checks upstairs first, but their room is empty. He heads downstairs, and almost runs into Stiles who is just coming in from outside, borrowed coat covered in snow. His cheeks and nose are flush, his lips a rosy pink, and he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“There you are!” Stiles says, as if he had been looking for Derek and not the other way around.

“Where have you been all day?” Derek asks, curious.

Stiles’s grin grows wider. “You’ll see. Come on, I have a surprise for you,” he says, grabbing Derek’s coat from the rack beside him and handing it to him. He waits for Derek to get bundled up and then makes Derek closes his eyes and promise not to open them until he says.

Derek feels kind of silly, but he agrees, and Stiles’s hand is warm in his as Stiles guides him outside and leads him to his surprise. It’s not a long walk, but Derek can feel the chill in the air, the snow starting to slow so it’s lightly falling. When they finally come to a stop, Derek waits, breath held in anticipation for whatever Stiles has done for him. 

“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” Stiles says, voice soft as he looks over to Derek.

In front of Derek is a small oval that’s been cleared of snow and iced down. There’s a little gazebo in the middle covered in white twinkle lights, and all the trees that are nearby the makeshift ice rink are also covered in bright white lights. It’s amazing, and although he doesn’t look exactly like the one he had told Stiles about the night before, he knows Stiles tried to make it as close as he could.

He turns to Stiles to find him holding up a pair of skates.

“Think I could see this routine of yours?” Stiles asks, the corner of his lips curved up.

“I don’t… I don’t really remember it,” Derek answers truthfully. He skates every once in a while now and remembers a few tricks, but nothing significant.

“That’s okay. I just want to see you skate.” Stiles hands the skates to Derek, who shakes his head before kneeling to put the skates on.

He goes out on the ice and skates around the gazebo a few times to warm up and get the feel of the ice beneath him. He does a few spins and twists, which result in cheers and claps from Stiles. He’s having fun, but not as much as he could be having. He skates back over to Stiles who’s been standing on the edge of the ice watching Derek.

“You wouldn’t happen to have another pair of skates that fit you, do you?” Derek asks.

Stiles laughs, “I guess it’s good Laura insisted I get some, too.” 

Derek furrows his brow. “Laura?”

Stiles nods, moving past him to carefully walk to the gazebo where his skates are. He starts putting them on as he talks. “Her and Cora helped me set this all up.”

Logically, it makes sense. He knows Stiles would have had help, but knowing that his family helped makes it feel that much more special.

As soon as Stiles skates are laced up, Derek holds out his hand to help Stiles walk down the steps of the gazebo and onto the ice. He doesn’t let go when they both start skating, making lazy circles in the ice around the rink, fingers laced together. They skate in silence, enjoying the warmth of their linked hands, admiring the light reflecting off the ice as they move about. 

Derek glances over at Stiles every once in awhile, catching his gaze once or twice. When they link eyes they both smile and look down, bashful that they had caught the other one staring. Stiles is beautiful, and Derek is struck with how much he likes Stiles, for how much easier this weekend has been because of Stiles even if the start of it had been rocky.

After a few more turns, they both sit on the gazebo to rest and switch out their skates for shoes. They stand, ready to head back inside.

“Thank you for setting this all up,” Derek says, “and for getting my sisters to help.”

“I kind of forced them to at first actually. But they agreed because they wanted to show you they love you.”

Derek tilts his head back in acknowledgement. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Stiles says with a smile. “Oh, I should thank you, too.”

“For?”

“My gift,” Stiles says, scooting in closer to Derek, nudging him in the side. Derek knows he’s blushing, but he nods. “I loved it. It’s beautiful. I saw Laura’s, too. Your art is amazing.”

Derek’s face feels hot. “Thank you.”

“I, uh… saw some of your other ones in your sketchbook too, on accident. Your works are gorgeous. I have a friend who owns an art gallery, and if you want, when we get back to the city, I could put in a good word for you and show her some of your pieces? I’m sure she’ll want to show your art.”

His breath is caught in his throat, his eyes wide in shock as he looks back at Stiles. “Really?”

“Of course!”

“That would… yeah, that would be great. I… thank you. I’m very flattered and grateful. Just… thank you, Stiles,” Derek says before pulling Stiles into a hug. Stiles melts into him and hugs back.

Derek leans back enough to look at Stiles, their arms still around each other, and asks, “Why did you do all of this? You should hate me for what I did. I ruined your Christmas plans.”

Stiles bobs his head and steps back out of Derek’s arms. Derek knew this was too good to be true, but he tries to keep his face neutral. “You’re right,” Stiles agrees. “I should hate you. But I don’t. I… I’ve actually had a lot of fun, more than I thought I would. I, um… I actually kind of really like you.” Stiles scuffs the toe of his shoe on the ground.

Derek is both elated and confused by what Stiles has said. “You like me? As in _like_ like me? But… don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Stiles laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah… about that. I kind of lied about having a girlfriend. I don’t have one.”

“So wait, you’re single?” Derek asks. 

Stiles nods. 

“And you like me?” Derek adds.

Stiles bobs his head again and bites his lip to hide a grin.

“I’m single. And I like you, too.”

This time Stiles doesn’t hold back his smile and he steps in closer to Derek. “Does that mean we can stop pretending and be boyfriends for real?” Stiles asks. 

“God I hope so.”

Stiles laughs and pulls Derek into a kiss; unlike their first, this one is real--warm and soft and full of promise. They both open their mouths slightly to deepen the kiss, and Derek loves the taste of Stiles, can already tell he will become addicted to it. 

The only reason they don’t continue making out is that it’s freezing, and Stiles’s stomach growls. 

“We should go in,” Derek says after breaking the kiss.

“Okay,” Stiles says, breathless. “But, we’ll uh continue this later, yeah?”

Derek rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Yeah.” He gives one last peck to Stiles’s lips and whispers, “Later,” against them.

************* 

The rest of the weekend is filled with much more PDA from Stiles and Derek, but the Hales graciously ignore it. When they get back to the city, the first thing Stiles does is retrieve his jacket and cell phone and call Lydia. Turns out, she had figured out where he’d gone and knew he was okay; apparently, she is _very close_ with Derek’s sister Cora. Stiles chooses to ignore what she’s implying.

The next thing he does is call up his friend Allison who owns the art gallery. And by February, he and Derek are very much a couple and are both dressed up to attend Derek’s very first art show.

Guess starting Christmas in handcuffs didn’t turn out so bad for Stiles after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on my [tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [my twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion).


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